


That Old Time Rock and Roll

by WilliamTheB



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: F/M, Gen, Mild Language, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-22
Updated: 2013-02-22
Packaged: 2017-12-03 06:27:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/695230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WilliamTheB/pseuds/WilliamTheB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lindsey takes Darla to his apartment for the first time in early season two.  Based on pocochina's prompt in penny-lane's "Not My Ship" ficathon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Old Time Rock and Roll

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Lindsey asked her gently, as they stood outside his apartment. He held his keys in his good hand, and it took all his energy to steady them.

"I thought they hired you because you didn't have a  _good_ idea in your little head," Darla responded with a smile. "They don't pay you for propriety."

"They pay me for judgment," Lindsey said quietly. "It's not too late to go back. You haven't been in any other environments other than your apartment for weeks." He stroked her hair with his plastic hand, the imagined sensations somehow creeping through his arm.

"It's either this or going back outside, and I don't think the sun agrees with me, even now." She smiled at him with that smile. She was coy, almost, but it was fake; he knew it was fake, but he hoped it was covering something real underneath. She reached up and squeezed his hand on her hair, drew it up to her face. He knew she did that because he saw it. "Besides," she continued. "I'm human again. Which means it's again time to enter men's spaces." She hovered her hand over the doorknob for a second. "You know, time was I could break this with my hand." She took the keys from his hand and swifly shoved them into the lock, turned it, and shoved the door open, with a speed that surprised him. She walked in the room. "But time was I wouldn't be able to do that without asking nicely."

"The twenty-first century has its advantages," Lindsey responded, thinking of how many men's bedrooms she was paid to enter, coy and submissive.

"Not being a vampire has its advantages," she said, and Lindsey cringed realizing he mistook the reason she enjoyed not having to ask to gain entry into his space.

"Would you like a drink?" he said, struggling to think of what to do. He tried to remember the last girl he had taken to his apartment. But of course there was no last girl to this apartment: this was Holland's reward for his sacrifices to bring Darla into this world.

Darla looked at him and smiled. "Always. But sadly I doubt you have what I'd like in sufficient quantity, and I threw up last time I had some." She looked around the room, sizing it up. Saw a closet door just barely open, a guitar inside. "You play?"

"Oh." Lindsey went over to close the closet door. "I don't know why I brought that thing over here. I don't really--"

"Play something for me. Something...to set the mood."

Lindsey looked from one hand to the other. It was worth a try, if she wanted it. He picked it up and strapped it, with some difficulty, around his shoulder. He thought of L.A.. Pretty as a picture, she is like a diamond ring.... He carefully placed his fingers along the frets, certain that he could do that right. He only had to strum, anyway, right?

"Darla, I'm not sure --"

"Lindsey. You know how long it's been since I've heard live music? You wouldn't keep this from me, would you?"

Lindsey ran his tongue along his lips, and concentrated. This might be the thing to make her see him the way.... "You won't tell anyone at the office about this?" he pleaded for a moment.

"Lindsey, I'm sure they already know."

Right, of course.

He breathed. He strummed the first note. A string snapped, the sound was cacophonous. "DAMMIT!" he yelled, tossing the thing to the ground, looking at this thing he couldn't control. Darla laughed and laughed. He stared at her. "You think this is funny! That I can't -- that I can't --"

She laughed again. "Oh Lindsey. Don't you see? If you're going to offer me a drink, the least you could do is show me what you can't do either."

He seethed, embarrassed. Darla walked to the window, and stood for a moment in the sunlight, letting it hit her directly. "It feels good to hurt someone again, if only in modest ways."

Lindsey picked up his guitar and threw it in the closet. "Glad to be of service."

"Lindsey, I know what being of service is like. You're not glad." She smiled her coy smile again, but he saw the wickedness behind it this time, before banishing it from his mind. "But I am. And that is what they pay you for." His anger dissipated and he laughed. She strolled up to him, kissed him on the cheek, and held his plastic hand, and squeezed.


End file.
